chapter 11

Yesterday had been Thursday, the week after Gilderoy's revelation of the Ravenclaw Diadem, and Gilderoy had made another presentation at breakfast to the Headmaster.

After attracting everyone's attention just before the house-elves served dessert, he had reached into his robes, pulled out a package, and tapped it with his wand. It had grown to a much larger package. He had smiled broadly, and placed the package in front of the Headmaster's place setting.

"I, Gilderoy Lockhart," he had loudly proclaimed, "Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and beloved Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, present to you a set of fresh and mature mandrakes, from South Africa. The provider tells me these are more than suitable for making Mr. Colin Creevey's Mandrake Restorative Potion. There is no need to wait until May to find out what he saw and what petrified him, as you had originally planned, Headmaster."

Bozo had been present, as had Rita. Another perfect photo opportunity for Gilderoy at the expense of the Headmaster. Lockhart's perfect smile gleamed, in contrast to the lack of twinkling in Dumbledore's eyes.

"Professor Snape has assured me it will only take a few days to prepare the potion once the Mandrakes were ready, so with these mandrakes Mr. Creevey will be able to join his classmates no later than Monday!" He had posed beside the package as the room had burst into applause. The headlines that evening had been exquisite, in Gilderoy's opinion. For the Headmaster? Not so much. Why hadn't the Headmaster thought of doing that, the newsparchments had asked. Why hadn't the Headmaster ordered Mandrakes from South Africa instead of Lockhart? Why had he waited? What was he hoping to hide? Was he really suited to be Headmaster?

And now it was Friday. Anything interesting that happened at dinner today would miss the evening newsparchments' deadlines. By Monday, it would be old news. And with his news yesterday, no one would expect anything from Gilderoy until late next week.

The students were talking animatedly about school matters and the latest rumours. Well, mostly rumours, as Professor Lockhart knew.

He slowly strolled past the students as though monitoring them, moving from table to table. Many students smiled as they greeted him and asked him quick questions about things from his classes.

Gilderoy was truly in his element. The girls watched him go by with dreamy expressions. If he happened to catch the eye of a Witch, she invariably blushed and looked away. Finding the lost diadem had upped his standing among the students and staff. Professors Sinistra and McGonagall were actively flirting with him! Gilderoy was thrilled, Harry, not so much.

The Wizards weren't so enamoured of him, but they had developed a grudging respect for him and his classes.

The D.A.D.A. class was quickly becoming as popular as Professor Flitwick's Charms and Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classes. Potions, of course, remained as the single most hated class in the school. The only person Professor Snape scowled at more than Harry was Professor Lockhart.

Harry/Gilderoy was quite pleased with himself, and he knew it showed. After their spectacular entrance at the Sorting Feast, Harry and Ron had settled down to having a normal year — or, at least, as normal as Harry was ever going to have. Neville had a proper wand and talk of his being a squib was well into the past — a distinct improvement over last year and Harry's future. Gilderoy had managed to prevent Luna from having a miserable Hogwarts' experience — she had had a rough start, but was now flourishing with her new friends. Draco was muzzled — his father's death and the family's sharp decline in fortunes had removed whatever influence in Slytherin he might have had. He had transitioned from a top dog to a bottom. Harry, both of them, hoped he enjoyed his new position.

Harry/Gilderoy anonymously sent him kneepads, mouthwash, and a haemorrhoid potion. To ensure Draco opened the package in the Great Hall Gilderoy wrapped the box in the same paper Draco's mother used to deliver his daily chocolate supply. Draco was puzzled as he unloaded the box, but the older and more experienced students, mostly Witches, quickly burst into gales of laughter.

Gilderoy's return of Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem had greatly increased his standing in the public eye, and book sales had reflected that change. Thanks to Malfoy's arrogance, Gilderoy's vault was packed with galleons, and the new deals for Harry's books, as well as his part of the boy's late-paid royalties, had added even more. His expenditures were miniscule by comparison. His income properties were coming along nicely, and they would give him more galleons than last year's book sales. But from Harry/Gilderoy's point of view, his best acquisition was Dobby.

Harry was getting good press and people had a very positive impression of the young Wizard. The Lilly Potter Foundation was well funded, now, and already had a list of potential candidates to help next year. There would be a substantial increase in new students next year.

Ron was almost apoplectic at all the attention The Daily Prophet lavished on the Boy-Who-Lived. Hearing about how rich Harry was, and that it was increasing, didn't improve his disposition. Gilderoy's constant mentions of the disparity between Ron's low position academically and in Gryffindor for his point loses and Harry's high grades and popularity throughout the school didn't help. He wore an almost permanent scowl.

Unfortunately, though, all of Hagrid's Roosters were dead and next week Tommy-boy was going to let the Basilisk out to play once more. Harry/Gilderoy just couldn't let that happen to Justin again. He needed to nip that flower in the bud. Once more, it was show time! Pity that the audience this time was restricted to just the school.

He strolled casually between the tables, projecting an image of confidence in himself with every step, one hand on his hip sweeping his robes back with a dramatic flair.

Today, his robes were the perfect shade of lavender to show off his blue eyes. His winning smile was on display and his hair carefully coiffed to perfection. The girl's nearly swooned as he passed them by. He would have looked at home at a formal Ball. For the school, he was more than slightly overdressed, but he knew and didn't care. It was all about presentation. If you look important people will think you are important!

He stopped occasionally to provide his audience with an inspiring pose. He acted every inch the brainless peacock, more interested in appearance than substance. It was such fun to hoodwink his opponents.

People were looking at him and watching him for all the right reasons! Harry/Gilderoy felt like hiding, but Gilderoy/Harry thrived on the attention. And Harry was slowly coming around to Gilderoy's point of view.

He noted, happily, that the group of Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Luna were talking animatedly. By Hermione's expression, Harry/Gilderoy knew that Luna was once more befuddling her with mysterious creatures. His example of the duck-billed platypus and okapi, and Hagrid's thestrals, had shut down most of her objections to the other girl's "imaginary" creatures. That and pointing out how all the Muggle books she grew up with denied the magic world she was currently experiencing. Now she just listened, and occasionally asked for more information.

Instead of participating in their discussions, Ron was stuffing his face as if he thought he never would see food again. At least this time he was showing some proper manners and not trying to talk with food in his mouth. And he was actually chewing his food as well!

Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Luna were on one side of the table with the wall to their back and keeping the Slytherin Table in sight, while Neville sat across from them. To Gilderoy's amusement, Susan Bones and her best friend Hannah Abbott had bracketed Neville between them. Gilderoy would do his part to ensure that that romance had a decent chance. He was pleased to note that several other students were sitting with friends from other Houses.

He passed them and headed towards the table's end, where Ginny Weasley sat picking at her food. The other Firsties were nearby, but none appeared to be engaged in conversation with her. If he didn't know better, he would have thought they were shunning the girl. They weren't, she had rebuffed their attempts to include her several times over the last few weeks. He stopped at the end of the table and turned around to look at the Headmaster's table. He stared intently at Professor McGonagall, knowing she would pick up on the 'I'm looking at you' feeling.

Sure enough, less than a minute passed before she looked up at him. He smiled and tilted his head to the side, motioning that he wanted her to join him. She stared back a moment, frowned, and stood. As she headed across the hall, he looked down at Ginny, still smiling his perfect smile. Ginny was already looking at him, wondering why he had stopped beside her and yet said nothing.

"Miss Weasley," he said cheerily, "You look a bit tired. Have you been getting enough sleep?"

Surprised he had noticed the dark marks under her eyes, she said, "Yes, sir. I don't know why I feel so tired this morning."

"Are you eating well?" he asked in concern.

"Yes sir, but I don't have much appetite this morning."

The nearby girls were listening enviously. If only Gilderoy would talk with them! The boys were trying to ignore him.

"Hm. Perhaps you should see Madam Pomfrey today to make sure you aren't coming down with something. If you aren't feeling well, you shan't appreciate my class as much as you could. I would be truly disappointed if you didn't get the full benefit of my wondrous intellect and experiences." He radiated a genuine feeling of wanting to help the girl.

Professor McGonagall was almost to his side.

"Tell me, Miss Weasley, do you keep a diary?"

The girl stiffened and a frightened look briefly appeared on her face. "Uh, yes, sir."

"Very good! I find that keeping a diary — well, actually, Wizards like to call them journals, sounds more manly, don't you know — anyway, I find keeping a daily journal helps me organize my thoughts." He smiled at her benevolently. "It's ever so useful to be able to go back weeks, months, or years, and see exactly what I was doing or thinking on a certain day. It helps bring clarity to my decisions." And helps combat any attempts at someone meddling with his mind in the future, he didn't say out loud. He looked at her, waiting for a response. Several of the girls within earshot, he saw, were asking their friends if they had a diary to spare.

Not knowing what else to say, she said, "Um, yes, sir." She was still on guard, though.

"Do you keep your diary with you, my dear?"

She frowned, "Yes, sir. It's in my bag."

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed. He had been afraid that today she might have left it in her dorm room. That would have delayed things and wouldn't have been as dramatic. "I find that keeping my journal at hand is a marvellous way to jot down the day's events when I have a few spare moments, instead of trying to remember everything just before I retire for my nightly beauty sleep." He smiled at her. "A well-rested Wizard is a well-prepared Wizard, don't you know? Or Witch I should say, I suppose." His smile beamed down at her.

He glanced at Professor McGonagall standing beside him. She was annoyed that he had called her over and seemed to be ignoring her. He leaned close and whispered in her ear, "Watch her carefully." He glanced around. At least half the Gryffindor table was watching, with a substantial portion of the other Houses doing so as well. Percy was walking down the aisle towards them, no doubt concerned for his sister. The twins were standing and watching.

He pulled out his wand with a flourish and said, "Accio Ginny's diary."

Her eyes shot wide open and she made a belated grab for her bag as it rustled. A thin black book with gold-coloured corner protectors flew up in front of Gilderoy. Gilderoy held it suspended in front of him and slowly rotated it.

"Hm," he said, "purchased from Winstanley's Bookstore & Stationers, an establishment on Vauxhall Road, London. That's a Muggle firm, how did you ever find this book? And what's this name, here?" He stopped the rotation and said loudly, "Tom Riddle?"

He looked up at the Headmaster's table to see the old Wizard walking quickly around the end of that table. He wasn't wasting any time in getting here.

He looked down at the little Witch. She was staring up at him in horror and he could see the sheen of sweat on her face. The poor girl was terrified!

"Really now, Professor Lockhart, return Miss Ginny's property at once. You have no right to see something so private!" said McGonagall, outraged at his presumption.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Minerva, because this book is possessed by the vilest magic you can imagine. Can't you feel it?"

She jerked her attention from him to the book.

As Ginny started to jump up to grab the book, Gilderoy cast a silent stupefy on the girl with his free hand, dropping her back in her seat where she slumped forward beside her plate, which he magically moved aside. He magically guided her collapse subtly with his left hand until it appeared she was hiding her face in her arms on the table, and not knocked out.

The Transfiguration professor stared at the book, then pulled her wand and cast a strong detection spell at it. The book momentarily disappeared in an inky black cloud. She took a startled step back. "My word!" she exclaimed. She turned her shocked gaze to him.

The upper year students close enough to understand what was going on gasped and moved back, pulling their less informed mates with them.

The Headmaster arrived just then, staring at the diary in disbelief.

Gilderoy said, loudly and reproachfully, "I told you, did I not, Headmaster, that there was a vile Dark Artefact being paraded in the Halls? Well, here it is. The exact same magic that possessed Ravenclaw's Diadem." He could see the Headmaster eyes widen in surprise.

He looked down the Gryffindor table towards Harry; others would think he was just staring into the distance. Then he glanced at the Headmaster. "And I have felt another somewhere in Hogwarts," he calmly stated. The Headmaster started, but retained enough control not to glance at Harry.

Minerva put a hand below her throat in shock. "Another one?" she whispered, "Like this?"

"Yes," Gilderoy said sadly, shaking his head. "There is still another here." He took a deep breath, then smiled broadly, displaying his magnificent teeth. "Amazing, isn't it, that the Castle's protective enchantments seem unable to detect these things. I would think they would be set to detect any Dark enchanted items as a threat to the students when they hit the Castle's protective enchantments. But I guess they are not. Rather careless, if you ask me." He planted a seed of doubt in the older Witch's mind. The Headmaster was staring daggers at him.

"I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor has done it again!" he proclaimed loudly. "One more innocent saved because of my superior knowledge and skills." He was like a peacock proudly spreading its tail to attract attention. And he was succeeding.

By now, the entire room understood something important had just happened. The ones farther away were asking those closer what had happened. They quickly quieted down as they realized he was speaking.

"Children, you can tell you parents that once again I assure them I will keep you all safe while you are here at Hogwarts. I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, and your beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor is on the job here!"

He brandished the book higher, so all could see it. "There is a vile piece of magic on this book, and it has been trying to possess an innocent Witch. She is safe now, as are you all! The book can harm no one. I shall dispose of it. And then I shall find the foul Wizard who would try to entrap an innocent Witch in a web of evil by giving her what appears to be a harmless book!" Actually, the one that gave her the book was already dead at the hand of his compatriots, but nobody else knew that.

Percy had made his way to his sister and was kneeling down beside her. "Mr. Weasley," Gilderoy said in a normal voice, "Do not touch her."

The Prefect jerked his hand back as if it were scalded.

The blonde-haired professor turned his attention to Dumbledore, who was staring intently at the book still held above their heads. "Headmaster, Albus, I am not one to meddle in another's business, but I think Miss Weasley here needs to have Madam Pomfrey give her a thorough examination, in all particulars." He stared meaningfully at the old Wizard, then at Professor McGonagall. "All particulars," he repeated. "Who knows what else a Wizard evil enough to have one of these in his possession might do to an innocent under-aged witch," he concluded in an undertone only those two were close enough to hear.

Professor McGonagall gasped and turned to stare at Ginny. The Headmaster continued to stare at the diary, frowning.

"I casted a stupefy on her a moment ago to spare her the embarrassment of being the focus of the room." And to prevent Tom from acting, but he couldn't say that out loud. "Perhaps you should float her to the infirmary, Minerva." He turned his full attention to the Headmaster. "I'm not one to meddle in another's business, Headmaster, but maybe you should inform Mr. and Mrs. Weasley of this situation?"

The Headmaster had to force himself to stop staring at the book. "Yes, of course," he said distractedly.

Gilderoy guided the book down and into a silk bag that he then placed in his pocket. He looked up around the room. "Misters Weasley, would you all attend here please?" He clapped his hands twice. "That's all, children. You may return to your repasts. And don't some of you have a class coming up?"

The room quickly dissolved into the dull roar of hundreds of students talking loudly and gathering their things. There would be many discussion about what had just happened.

McGonagall was already gone, Percy trailing in her wake worriedly. When the remaining Weasleys had all assembled, Gilderoy said, "Meet the Headmaster in his office, your parents will be there shortly." They hurried off.

Gilderoy sighed happily and stood posed in triumph. He had done it again. And done it well. Unfortunately, keeping the news of Voldewhore's horcruxes out of the public's knowledge was the only reason he would sacrifice his headlines, and the attendant increase in his reputation, although the rumour mill should work in his favour.

After a few minutes of watching the students leave, with the girls all casting looks of admiration at the Professor who had just saved the life of a student, Gilderoy turned and headed for the Headmaster's Office. He expected that by now, Mr. Weasley had collected his wife and was on his way to Hogwarts. Gilderoy should arrive just in time to make a dramatic entrance. And, he expected, a dramatic confrontation. The Headmaster was not going to like what Gilderoy planned to tell the Weasleys.

He halted a second just at the top of the stairs to the Headmaster's Office to compose himself. Smiling broadly, he thrust open the door and strode inside, his robes billowing around him. Just as he had thought, the Headmaster was greeting the Weasley parents who had not even had time to sit in the provided chairs.

"Ah, good!" exclaimed Gilderoy, "everyone except Mr. Percy Weasley is here." Mr. Weasley was watching him, surprised, while Mrs. Weasley was anxious at the thought of one of her brood being in danger.

Before the Headmaster could say more than, "Professor Lockhart . . . ." Gilderoy launched into action.

"I am so sorry," the D.A.D.A. professor said addressing the two parents, "That we had to disturb you today. I know what a trial it is for a working man such as yourself, Mr. Weasley, to escape your busy office on such short notice. And Mrs. Weasley, I know, is just as busy keeping home and hearth functioning so well." Both Weasleys looked a bit taken aback while the twins and Ron rolled their eyes at his smarmy actions.

"Never fear, I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, Hogwarts' beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, and adventurer extraordinaire, have rescued your daughter, Miss Weasley from a fate worse than death. And I am not exaggerating! But, no farther harm to her shall occur." The adults looked worried now, and the children perturbed. Percy quietly slipped into the room.

"First, I must give you a little background. Perhaps you heard earlier this year that on October 31st the Chamber of Secrets was opened and a pet was petrified?" The adults slowly nodded. "What you may not know is that the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, some fifty years ago, a child died." Now they did look alarmed, and Molly was wringing her hands together.

"Now, I did extensive research on that previous episode and discovered some disturbing facts. Even though no marks of any kind were on the poor girl's body, the Headmaster at that time, Armando Dippet, decided that Third-year Rubeus Hagrid's pet Acromantula was the monster. The Headmaster had him expelled from the school and his wand snapped. The evidence used was the word of one Tom Riddle, a Fifth-year Prefect. That's all, just the word of one student against another, even though everyone knows Acromantulas kill with a venomous bite."

The Headmaster interrupted, "Surely that isn't important, now, Gilderoy, we need to deal with what happened today." He leaned forward in his chair and projecting an air of Grandfatherly concern.

"Yes, Headmaster, it is important. Miss Weasley's family must understand the awful trial that she has been through, and what they must do to help her recover. Or she, like Hagrid was, will be swept aside and the injustice ignored." The entire Weasley family stiffened in response to that declaration.

He turned back to the Weasleys. "What the Headmaster wants to keep secret from you is that Tom Riddle, the one who accused Hagrid, used that girl's death, Myrtle Warren — you may know her as Moaning Myrtle." They all exchanged glances, no one who attended Hogwarts left without hearing of Myrtle. "He used her death to create a foul artefact, one of the most vile pieces of magic you can imagine. He turned an ordinary item," Gilderoy pulled the silk bag out of his pocket and slid the opening down far enough for them to see the book, and the name one it. He held it up in his left hand. "He made this diary into a Soul Vessel." Harry surreptitiously slid his wand into his other hand. "Notice the name here," he tapped the index finger of the hand holding the diary, "is Tom Riddle!"

The Headmaster stood, "I must insist that you stop right there, Gilderoy, this concerns something they do not need to know." The old Wizard was furious, his eyes had gone flat without the slightest trace of a twinkle.

"Yes, they DO need to know." Gilderoy angrily replied. "And unless you intend to have a spell battle in this office right now, I intend to tell them the TRUTH!" Harry had his wand pointed at the old Wizard.

The Weasleys were watching with mouths agape. Harry noticed from the edges of his eyes that the twins had their wands out and ready, as well, and they seemed more pointed at the Headmaster than himself.

"Someone, the Headmaster does not as yet know whom," he said, glaring at Dumbledore, eyes narrowed and daring him to stop the D.A.D.A. professor from revealing what he knew. "Someone gave this diary to your daughter with the intent that it would consume her soul and give the soul bound in the diary a living, breathing body. And thus bringing back to life the one that used to be known as Tom Riddle and is now known as Lord Voldemort!"

The Weasleys gasped as one at that name, and Mrs. Weasley collapsed into a nearby seat. The twins, Ron, and their father were staring at him as if he were mad.

"Are you ready, Headmaster?" Harry's wand was outstretched, pointing accusingly at the Wizard and the tip glowing with a potential spell. "Are you ready to obliviate us all?" he yelled. "The entire school? For the battle shall not be an easy one and I dare say the entire castle shall hear and feel the effects!"

The Headmaster knew Gilderoy had the drop on him. Even though he had his wand at hand, he would not get off a single spell before Gilderoy bespelled him. If they had been alone he might have dared to try. But they weren't.

They stared at one another for a timeless period before the Headmaster sighed and sat back in his chair. "I shall require a Wizards Oath that none shall know what was revealed in this room today."

"No." Harry/Gilderoy said. His wand still pointed at Dumbledore. "An Oath that their magic will only let them tell those who need to know or already know of the information about horcruxes, or once Voldemort, Tom Riddle, is decisively dealt with and no longer a danger to people who don't believe in his rule."

They again engaged in a staring contest. "And that you will not obliviate anyone in this room of this knowledge, nor that you will betray us," Harry/Gilderoy added. The Headmaster reluctantly agreed. Minutes later, it was done and their wands restored to their proper places.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat, uncertain of what to say next. He had never heard of anyone going toe-to-toe with the great Dumbledore and winning. He settled on asking, "Are you sure this is a . . . one of those soul things?"

"You want proof? That's easy to provide," responded Gilderoy jovially, as if the deadly confrontation of a few minutes ago were a disagreement over what tea to serve at supper. "This will be the second one of these I've destroyed in a month."

He turned a steady eye on Dumbledore, "Would you do the honours of providing a shield for everyone over there?" He pointed to one end of the office. Frowning, the Headmaster joined the others and cast a shield over the Weasleys and himself.

Harry/Gilderoy, still holding the diary in his left hand, dropped it to the floor. In one smooth motion, he drew the Goblin knife from his thigh holster with his right hand and rammed it through the diary. He wiggled the knife around trying to spread as much poison as possible.

A scream came from the diary as Harry stepped back with the knife, the Basilisk poison left behind making its way through the diary. Ink poured from the diary in a seemingly endless stream, puddling on the floor. A black smoke rose from the diary, and a face formed that everyone could see was doing the screaming. It spun wildly, looking for escape. Harry whipped his knife blade through the centre of the face parting it into two pieces. The screaming choked to a stop and the cloud dissipated into thin air.

It took most of half-an-hour and several cups of tea to calm the Weasleys.

Molly stared at Gilderoy. "That . . . thing was trying to possess Ginny?"

Gilderoy nodded. "She had no idea that every time she wrote in the diary, telling it of her dreams and her woes, that it stole a bit more of her life-force and soul. It had a powerful compulsion enchantment in it that tricked her into writing in it and then prevented her from stopping." He was not smiling or glossing things over for them, they needed to know what their daughter had done, and what the diary had done to her in turn. "When she slept, he would take over her body and force her to do things, like opening the Chamber of Secrets, killing Hagrid's roosters, writing on the walls in blood, ordering the Basilisk in the Chamber to attack Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey. He was in her mind, forcing her to do those things."

"Basilisk?" questioned the Headmaster.

Gilderoy turned an astonished expression on Dumbledore. "Surely you knew? You've had fifty years to examine the evidence. I figured it out the night the message appeared on the wall. Do you mean to tell me that after fifty years, you haven't figured that out? Is that why you never used your position to clear Hagrid of the accusations against him and restore to him his wand? You actually believed that an Acromantula killed without venom or touching its victim?

"Are you senile?" The Headmaster looked furious at the accusation. "I mean, for Merlin's sake, Slytherin's emblem is a snake," Harry continued, "the Basilisk is the only snake that kills with a look. What else could have killed Moaning Myrtle in the First Floor Witches toilets without any injuries? Didn't it cross your mind to ask her how she died? Are Miss Granger and I the only ones in this Castle who know how to think? Myrtle's description of her death, alone, would have cleared Hagrid!"

The Weasleys were dumbfounded, both at the revelation of what their daughter/sister had done and the accusations of incompetence levelled at the Headmaster. Dumbledore flushed, no one had given him such a dressing down since he was a student in this very institution. And he could say nothing to his defence. If he claimed he hadn't known, then he looked incompetent. If he admitted he knew it was a Basilisk, people would question his motives for both not helping Hagrid and pretending ignorance when the Chamber was reopened at Halloween. And that debacle, unlike this one involving Ginny, he could not sweep under a rug with a Wizard's Oath.

"I thought you knew," Gilderoy continued, "and were merely caught unaware at the creature's reappearance and that you were trying to capture it. If I had thought you didn't know I would have called the Ministry immediately and shut the school down on November 1st before the creature had a chance to slaughter hundreds of students." He shook his head in disbelief. "What did you hope to gain, putting the entire school at risk like that?" Unsaid in all that was his assumption that Dumbledore had allowed Hagrid to suffer all these years without a wand and under a cloud of suspicion — what kind of Leader of the Light would do that?

The Weasleys were staring at the Headmaster in horror and betrayal. Gilderoy had just destroyed their faith in the old Wizard. Never again would they trust his word.

Gilderoy knew that the only good for the Headmaster was that they were unable to tell others of his failings. And hiring Gilderoy Lockhart had to be one of his personally biggest mistakes. He had to be wondering how such an ineffectual and foppish fool could have turned out to be so smart and competent? Harry grinned broadly.

The Headmaster probably thought that now that Gilderoy had destroyed the diary that the Basilisk was locked away with no one to provide instructions. Things would return to normal, just as they had fifty years ago. Except this time there wasn't a new ghost added to the castle who could reveal what had happened.

Harry/Gilderoy took a deep breath. He didn't hate the Headmaster, he just couldn't believe some of the choices the old Wizard had managed to justify over the years. For supposedly one of the cleverest Wizards in generations, he was incredibly blind to the truth at times. He had forgotten his responsibility to the students in pursuit of a nebulous "greater good" that never seemed to materialize for the greater part of the Wizarding community. In fact, his meddling appeared to have been directly involved in creating the disaster that was Harry-future's past. Harry wondered at times who was the greater Dark Lord, Voldewhore or Dumbledore?

"Well," he said, "Now that that's sorted, you should know that your daughter really needs to see a professional Mind Healer, Mr. Weasley. She has had a truly foul Wizard living in her mind and body for months and making her do things that are, well, evil. She'll feel guilty, she'll be depressed, and who knows what sort of things that evil Wizard did or revealed to her that a child of her age should never know." Ginny had confessed to him well after leaving Hogwarts the fact that she had had nightmares for years, and occasionally strange and horrifying urges to hurt viciously people who offended her.

"Surely, Gilderoy, you exaggerate the girl's experience?" put in the Headmaster, falling back into his familiar well-meaning grandfather persona. All the Weasleys gave him a look of astonished disbelief that he could say such a thing.

Harry/Gilderoy, surprised, turned and looked at the Headmaster. "Albus, are you a professional Mind Healer? Because only a professional Mind Healer could possibly understand the damage a possession could do to a child."

The Headmaster tried to soften that harsh assessment, "Well, I am quite knowledgeable of the mind arts . . . ."

"But do you know more than someone who has fifty years of study doing nothing but studying and working with those whose minds have been damaged by spells and possessions?"

Dumbledore had to admit, "No, probably not."

"Then perhaps we should let a professional Mind Healer make that determination while you work on getting Hagrid a proper wand and allowing him to finish his education."

The Weasley parents shared a long look. Gilderoy could imagine what they were thinking, "how could they possibly afford such a Healer?"

He took a deep calming breath. "Headmaster, I'm not one to meddle in another's business," said the D.A.D.A. professor, "but I really think Hogwarts should take responsibility for the Mind Healer helping Miss Weasley. A solicitor could argue, quite effectively, I imagine, that it is Hogwarts' fault that this deadly Dark artefact wasn't discovered when it first crossed through Hogwarts' protective enchantments."

He continued, "After all, I told you last week I could detect a vile Dark Artefact being carried in the corridors of this school. And if I could detect it, why couldn't the school's protective enchantments?" And the unspoken accusation was 'If I could find it, why couldn't you?'

If looks could kill . . . but the Headmaster wasn't a Basilisk. He sighed and slowly nodded. "Yes, Professor Lockhart, you are correct. The school's protective enchantments should have detected that diary."

From the expression that fleeted across his face, Harry was positive the protective enchantments had detected the Dark Artefact and the Headmaster had just ignored it, as he had all the Dark Artefacts the Slytherin students smuggled into the school.

He turned to the Weasley parents, "Arthur, Molly, I will tell Madam Pomfrey to make the arrangements and have the Mind Healer meet with Miss Weasley in the Hospital Wing for as long as it is necessary, at Hogwarts' expense."

The Weasleys were profuse in their thanks at that "generous" offer. That they knew Lockhart had forced the Headmaster to that decision reinforced the feelings of betrayal they now felt towards the old Wizard. And knew that they would be a staunch supporter of the blonde-haired Wizard, it was the least they could do for his saving the life of their only daughter.